Hiding behind the newspaper (Read in caption) It was a winter morning. The sun and my father both were awake from their sleep, papa with his newspaper and the old sun with his shine midst the wintery tide. Yes, these days he had grown up a habit of reading newspapers immediately after leaving his bed. He used to lift the chair and rest it on the verandah; cross the leg over his knee; open up his king sized hands and dive into the newspaper. Breakfast was almost ready and maa asked me to call papa. I went near him and read out a headline emphatically. "What, really!" he exclaimed. "Papa are you fine? You've been stuck with this page from long and staring at the headline which I read it aloud. What are you thinking?" "No, I'm reading... Just go and fetch me a glass of water."
